


George Gets McDonald's

by CountChoculaButGay



Category: McDonald's - Fandom, Seinfeld
Genre: Anal, Explicit Sexual Content, Food Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 08:43:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20775743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountChoculaButGay/pseuds/CountChoculaButGay
Summary: George gets a lovely burger from McDonald's, but is surprised at who he soon meets.





	George Gets McDonald's

George got into his car, excitement coursing through his body as he began to drive to the purveyor of sexiness itself, McDonald's. Not the closest store to him, but one a few miles away. He didn't want to be caught by anyone he knew.

He drove up to the drive thru, his hands sweating, his mouth salivating and his pants pitched into a tent. His breathing started to become heavy as he made his order "Uh, one Quarter Pounder with Cheese Deluxe. No fries, medium Pepsi. And - uh - could I get some packets of ketchup and BBQ sauce?"

He went through the motions of the order and drove off to a motel. He rented a room and went in, placing the bag of food on the table. He unwrapped the burger and looked in amazement. Its buns were perfectly soft and browned, the pickles and tomatoes were glistening. the mayo and mustard was o exquisite consistency. The lettuce, onions, and cheese were the most vibrant he'd ever seen. And the beef. Oh, the beef. It looked like the juiciest piece of meat he'd ever seen. It alone could please him for hours.

George had the realization that this was the kind of burger he'd only saw each night while in deep slumber. The kind he'd had wet dreams about since his youth. He never thought it was possible, but it hit him like a train. He was about to go raw, no condom, on the burger of his dreams.

He muttered to himself "Oh my fucking God" at this realization, his hands slightly shaking as he undoes his belt and takes his pants off, his cock bouncing up and down like a hungry bird feeding as he frantically throws his trousers onto the bed. He runs his hands across his balding head, running them down past his shirt to his thick, bare ass, trying, and failing, to contain himself. Hands still trembling, he reaches for a ketchup packet, tears it open, and spreads it across his phallic flesh. He does the same with a packet of BBQ sauce, preparing for the greatest union of meats this world had ever seen.

He plunged into it, his pecker between the beef and the bottom bun and his hands supporting the burger to keep the collection of perfection all in one piece. He pulled out slowly and vigorously pushed himself back in. The longer he went, the faster he got, until he finally came inside the burger. While finishing inside of it he let out a loud moan and a thanks to Ronald for allowing him the most pleasurable moment of his entire life. As his tired out chicken starting heading home to roost, after having unleashed a devastating amount of itself across the tenderized fields, George heard a voice behind him.

"You're welcome." A stranger said in an echoing tone, accompanied by a series of clapping. George, startled, tries to look behind himself, but he refuses to move too much as to not risk ruining the masterpiece he was conjoined with. He could have sworn he'd heard this voice before. The clapping continued as the sound of heavy boots joined, getting closer and closer. "You sure had one damn good fuck. Probably the best I've ever seen." The clapping stopped as George began to feel this oddly familiar stranger push up against his naked lower half. George may have just ended, but this man was still raring to go. Arms wrapped around George's body. He knew these arms. They were the torso noodles of none other than Ronald McDonald. Those iconic gloves, the daring stripped pattern. There was no way he could mistake the fashion of the hunk he had dreamt about for years. The builder of George's perfect burger, in the flesh.

Ronald moved his head in to whisper into George's ear. "I had read the prophecy, but I had never thought it would be true. I only came here today so I could laugh in Grimace's cute fate that he was wrong... but he wasn't. The perfect burger is nearly complete. It just needs one more ingredient. Are you willing to help me?" He ends off the question while he starts to grind up on George's plump cheeks.

"Yes! I've wanted you to fuck me for decades Mr. McDonald. I would be honored to have you inside me." George hears a chuckle in his ear. "Please, just call me Ronald. It's me who should be calling you mister since you've begun making the burger to put all else to shame."

"You can call me whatever you want, Ronald." George replies, his jaw quaking with pleasure.

"Ok... George." Ronald whispers, intimately.

George moans at the utterance of his own name through the lips of his life long sex symbol.

Ronald unzips his pants, pulling them down and wriggling his massive shoes through the descended legs and kicking the cloth cock sheath to his side. He taps his head against the dimple above the passage between George's perky ass.

"Should I - should I pull out?" Asks George, being lead astray halfway through the question due to the gently, titillating smack of Ronald's cock against his body.

"No. No." Ronald says reassuringly as his hands reactively fall upon George, inches away from his member. "You're not done yet in there."

Ronald teases the tip into George's tight bussy. They both moaned a little. Ronald being the more composed of the two. After playing with George's hole for a while, he asks George to hand him the packets of BBQ sauce. Ronald opens the packs with his teeth, using the first two as lube, fingering George to make the journey they are about to embark on more forgiving. He uses the last one on himself, stroking the sauce across his meat flute. "Do you want some ketchup?" George inquires, slightly tense from the preparations. "No. The prophecy said that the Founder of Flavor that helps you would only use BBQ sauce."

Once Ronald is ready to raid George's tomb he begins to slowly put his tip in. He doesn't rush the rest of himself in, instead putting himself more and more in in increments. Ronald had taken so long to prepare that George was ready for round two, and he was sure that this would somehow be even better than his first go.

After Ronald was entirely inside George, he started to thrust. Each thrust bringing bouts of slight pain that was becoming more and more overcome with waves of pleasure. They went at this for a few minutes, with George warning his partner "George is about to cum!" before spreading more seed onto the burger. Soon after Ronald pulled out. George begged "cum inside me Ronald, please!"

Ronald chuckled and didn't see how he could refuse. He unleashed his salty load inside of George's manhole, his juices already leaking before he exited. Afterwards, Ronald got down on his knees and ran his tongue through, making sure to get as much of his own fluids as he could. He stood back up and asked George to remove his glove, the words fighting through Ronald's own sauce. Using his other hand he lifted the bun of the burger and placed it on the table, innards facing the heavens. He then spit his own personal extract onto his naked hand. After moving the softened rooster in the burger with with his dressed hand to a moan from his mortal co-creator, Ronald put his nectar on the holy body of perfect ingredients. He wiped what he couldn't get off onto the removed burger bun, then on his thigh.

Both huffing and puffing from their hard work, Ronald pulled up two chairs. He sat his bare, albino booty on the makeshift throne. He motioned for George to do the same. George got snapped back into reality after sitting down, the squishy sound of Ronald's guy goo leaving his cavern and hitting the chair cushion being the catalyst. As he sat there with the odd feeling of a baby batter covered seat against his bubble butt, he had finally processed that he had been fucked in the ass by Ronald McDonald. That he had the best moment of his life one upped almost immediately.

"Wow." George let out.

"Yeah." Ronald responded. "And now you get to eat the fruits of your labor."

"Our labor." George cut in.

George's hands shook as he put the bun back on the burger. Ronald grasped George's free hand, giving him the strength and determination he needed. After having put the burger together, he drew his clutched hand out of Ronald's with no resistance. George held the burger with both hands and brought it to his mouth. The taste that rushed onto his wet pad of flavor sensors was the best thing he had ever felt. Not just the taste of it, but the sheer pleasure and euphoria that came with it. It beat everything. The amazing union he just had with it and Ronald. Him getting his job at the New York Yankees. It even beat the joy of finding out Susan had died. Tears flow as he troubles to process all of this divine burger, adorned by the best Founder of Flavor, the Saint of Flavor himself.

He got halfway through the burger before moving his head towards Ronald, unable to see past the tears. He extends his hand to him, offering their creation. "Oh. No, I couldn't." Said Ronald, waving his hand in an act of rejection only seen by himself. George rebuttals, "You helped make it. Hell, you're the only reason this blessing is here to begin with. If you hadn't started your burger joint than this moment would've never happened. This would've never been made... You deserve this as much as me. Maybe even more."

Ronald gives a smirk, nodding while saying "Ok. Maybe just one bite." and accepting the burger. He takes a bite of it, moaning as the flavor of the succulent meat marinaded in their own sauces washes over him. He begins to cry as well. "It's damn good." He says while chewing, quickly succeeding it with a laugh. He hands it back to George and the crying mortal asks "You sure one bite's enough?"

"Yeah. When your someone like me one taste is all you need. Besides, the prophecy only said you'd get to eat it. Don't wanna go against fate." Ronald answered.

"Huh. You've gone against fate, aye? 'Broke' the prophecy? Well at least you can still tell Grimace to shove it now!"

Laughter manages to escape both of their mouths, despite the food still in them, filling the room with their guffawing.

"Yeah. I guess there's that." says Ronald, after the laughter dies down.

George finishes the burger. The two sit there for a while, not knowing what to do after such an experience. When Ronald gets up, George asks with a pang of poorly restrained desire "Wait! Will I ever see you again?"

"Whenever you get another of our burgers I'll be there."

George's heart flutters as Ronald returns with a towel for each of them. They clean up, get dressed and go their separate ways.

Each leave that motel room a changed man. The mortal with a renewed sense of pride. The God, a hope for the world.


End file.
